Brothers
by A.tmosphere 03
Summary: Soda was going off to war, and Pony would do anything to stop that from happening. But he couldn't do anything, but sit back, and hope Soda would come home one day, alive. One-Shot.


**Well, this is my new creation. I hope you like it!**

**I do not own any of the characters, those belong to S.E. Hinton. And as for the awesome lyrics, those belong to Dean Brody. **

_The house was like a tomb. I_

_was hiding in my room. _

_As my brother made his way on down the hall. _

I had spent the night before crying my eyes out, begging Soda to stay. But he knew - just as well as I did - that it wasn't choice. He couldn't just say that he didn't wanna go, it didn't work that way.

Now I was in our room, slumped against the wall with my knees pulled up, arms crossed, and dangling over each knee, with my head resting against them.

I could hear his foot steps coming down the hallway, towards our room. The door opened, and in stepped Soda, his eyes just as red as I imagine my own were.

He walked over, and slid down next to me, throwing an arm around my shoulder, as to say everything would be okay. But I knew - he knew- that this might be the last time I see him alive. Next time I will probably see him, is in a world beyond the skin of this world.

A place better than this.

Someplace where Dally, and Johnny live in peace. Johnny no longer suffers, and Dally is not so cold. But most importantly, my parents.

Although, what makes me certain that they are their? I'm only certain about my parents, and maybe even Johnny, but Dally? I didn't know.

I snapped myself back to the real world. Why was I even thinking this? Soda _would_ come back, alive. He would come back, and I'd be the first one to see him, to hug him, to cry tears of joy, or tears of grief with him, just as it always has been.

_I didn't want to say goodbye. _

_And I was trying to deny there was a war, _

_And that he got the call. _

He got up, and extended a hand down to me; I refused.

The door closed, and I could hear him walking down the hallway again, probably to say goodbye to Darry, and the guys.

I knew I should be doing the same thing - saying goodbye I mean - but I just couldn't.

We had done our best to forget that he was going off to war, when he got that letter. Of course we knew he had to go, and that these might be the last days we spend together, but were we going to spend them thinking about what it was going to be like with Soda gone?

No, of course not.

Every free minute, we spent with each other. When Soda invited me to go with him and Steve, Steve no longer complained. Of course I was older, and Soda didn't invite me to come along too often, but all the same, Steve knew how much I needed Soda, and how little time we had together before…this would happen.

_I watched him from my window _

_Walking down the drive. _

_Then I ran down the stairway _

_Through the front door and I cried _

The front door was opening now, and I looked out my window to see Soda walking outside, Darry, Steve, and Two-Bit by him.

I should be there too, I thought.

I ran out of the house so fast you would have thought I was running from a group of Soc's. But I wasn't; I just wanted to see him again. To say goodbye, and try, one more time, to make him stay. Even though, deep down, I knew that there was _absolutely_ nothing I could do.

_You come back you hear? _

_And I let him see my tears I said I'll give you my rookie of DiMaggio._

_I'll do anything you want, Clean your room, or wash your car._

_I'll do anything so long as you don't go._

_But he said, this is what brothers are for. _

"Soda…" My voice trailed off, I wasn't able to speak.

He stopped immediately - they all did - and he turned around to face me. After a few

seconds of him looking at me, he slowly approached, and wrapped me in a big hug.

"Don't worry," I heard him say, as I clutched onto his shirt, and my tears dampened it. His head was pressed to the side of my head, so I could feel his own hot, tears down the side of my neck. "I'll be fine."

But I knew him all-too well. That wasn't a reassuring voice.

"Soda, Soda, I love you, and I'll miss you, and if we don't…" He lifted his head, and put his right hand on the left side of my face.

"Don't say 'if we don't' because we will. Trust me, one day, we will each other again. And I'll be damned if it ain't on this world itself. Because you're the first one I wanna see when I come home. And I _will_ come home." His voice was sure, steady. I knew he wasn't

lying. But he couldn't control whether he killed or not, it wasn't up to him.

"And I love you, and trust me Ponyboy, every day that I'm away from you, I'll miss you. Never have I tried to boss you around, but I want you to listen. While I'm gone, I want ya to do one thing for me, get good grades. Just 'cause I ain't gonna be here, doesn't mean you slack off, you hear?" His voice was thick with tears.

"Anything for you Soda."

"You'll be fine. You got Darry, and Two-Bit, and Steve. They'll be here for you. You know that. You'll be fine." I think he was trying to convince himself more than me, but I knew he was right.

I had Darry for anything, and everything. Same with Two-Bit. And if Soda said that Steve was there for me, I knew Steve was there for me.

He gave me once last hug, and then he walked back over to Darry, who shared a few words with him.

Next thing I know, is Two-Bit having his arm around my shoulders, pushing me back into the house, and Darry and Steve staying on the porch to talk.

_Well I have my heroes, _

_But the one I love the most Taught me how to hunt and swing a bat. _

_And I wrote him every night, I said I miss our pillow fights, _

_But lately I just wonder where you're at._

I wrote him every night, and Steve too - which I later learned that is why him and Darry stood out on the porch that day, and talked.

Everything was different. Nothing _at all_ was the same. Things seemed quiet without Soda and Steve, and everyday the numbers of who died were going up, but he just keep praying that it wasn't one of our guys.

A lot of guys were being drafted everyday, friends of friends, Tim Shepard's gang members, and even some of my friends that were of-age to be drafted.

Most of them weren't coming back.

_Sometimes freedom makes it hard to live. _

_When it takes things from you that you don't want to give. _

We were asked to write about what freedom meant to use in language, we were also supposed to tell about one person - that we consider a hero - who helped try to win that freedom.

What I was going to write about, didn't take me too long to figure out. I knew who my hero was, and how he - unwillingly - was overseas, protecting our county, protecting our freedom.

I got an A on that project.

_I said you come back you hear? _

_I miss you being near. _

_Laugh and fish down in the maple grove _

Every letter I wrote him, he would always reply by telling me that he _was_ coming back.

He wasn't going to die here, without seeing me. He wanted to come home, but he would always say "The harder I fight, the quicker the days pass." I always believed him.

_I'll do anything you want. _

_There must be someone I can call, _

_And just maybe they would let you come back home. _

_But he wrote, this is what brothers are for. _

The best thing that I ever have heard anyone say, was from one of his letters.

I had been talking about how we could try to get him back, try to get them to see I needed him, or something like that, and he simply said:

**I am doing all of this to see you again, and to defend my country. I know I never planned on doing this, but I also know that they need me. **

**Steve, the best friend a guy could have, signed up for war, just to be with me, to make sure I come back whole. And all he's says when I tell him thanks, is "That's what brothers are for."**

**Remember that. This is what brothers are for.**

_I may never have to face the anger of those guns, _

_Or lie cold and wounded in my blood, _

_Or know the sacrifice and what it must of cost_

_For him to love me that much. _

Both Soda _and_ Steve were due home in a week and a half.

They had both been injured - Soda worse than Steve - and had been lucky enough to get a flight home together. They were just waiting for the "okay's" and the 9 a.m. plane, and they'd be back in the states.

I often thought about war, and how I couldn't honestly comprehend it, nor could anyone who hasn't been through it.

Never would I know what it was like out there, on the battle field. While people are dying all around you, and you are shooting at those people who probably have families of their own that love them.

Hopefully I would never have to face the same dangers.

_Well, it had been two years, _

_And I held back my tears _

_When I saw him in that wheel chair on the shore. _

I never expected to see my brother, alive, sitting there in front of me. He was injured, yes, but he was whole. Steve stood at his side, his left hand rested on the back of Soda's wheel chair.

I raced up to him, Darry following, and Two-Bit staying behind quite a ways, to give us our space.

_And as I ran and held him tight, _

_That's when he looked me in the eye _

_And said I'm sorry that you have to push me home._

_And I said hey, this is what brothers are for._

Once again, I found myself in the arms of my brother. We stayed, in a group hug, for awhile, before we finally broke up.

He looked up at me with those loving, brown eyes, and frowned. "I'm sorry that you'll have to push me home."

"Hey," I said. "Just like a good friend told me one time, this is what brothers are for." He smiled, and grabbed my hand and squeezed it. Steve looked over at me, and smiled.

I had never been quite sure why he smiled at me. Maybe it was because I had acknowledged him as my friend - but he should have known that. Maybe he was just really happy to see me. With Steve, it is hard to tell. But, as happy as I was that Steve was home, safe and sound, I was also thrilled that I had my other brother back.

We were together again, not even war would ever split us up, not in a million years. We

were brothers, plain and simple.

XxX

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